Waiting For You
by lefranco
Summary: [AU Setting] Sam's landed a gig as one of the Secret Service men, only to find out that he's actually a babysitter to the President's twenty-two year old socialite daughter, Quinn Fabray. Scared and confused by the way she makes him feel, Sam tries his best not to fall for her and has a particularly hard time doing it.
1. Chapter 1

_AU SAM/QUINN  
Sam's landed a gig as one of the Secret Service men, only to find out that he's actually a babysitter to the President's twenty-two year old socialite daughter, Quinn Fabray. Scared and confused by the way she makes him feel, Sam tries his best not to fall for her and has a particularly hard time doing it._

So this idea has been stuck in my head for a while now, so I wanted to get it out and see what you guys think! It's quite a short chapter, but I'm already working on the second so eep~~ anyway, let me know what you think!

* * *

Waiting For You

_Chapter One_

There's a sense of pride when one wakes with a phone call from the Secretary of State, asking for a personal favour to fill the slot of a recently retired Secret Service agent, but at the same time it's a moment that Sam would never forget or regret.

That's until he met her.

Previously Sergeant Evans of the U.S. Navy Seals, Sam's job was now to be the personal bodyguard - babysitter - to the President's twenty-two year old daughter, Quinn Fabray. Sam, of course, had met the President and seen him on numerous occasions during the last few months of his service, but had never seen the daughter. He was taken back by her beauty, which so natural that he found himself disliking whenever she had make up and was a little confused as to how she turned out so beautiful compared to… President Russell Fabray, not that he'd ever voice it aloud.

Quinn, to the best of Sam's guestimation, had inherited her father's nose which didn't look as straight as his. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders and Sam could see the brown regrowth starting to come through. Quinn had the body of a dancer, with beautifully toned thighs and a strangely ghetto shaped butt, but it was her eyes that knocked the breath out of him whenever he looked into them. She'd inherited them from her mother and were the most beautiful shade of green.. or hazel, Sam wasn't too sure since he wasn't allowed to stare for too long, but it made his chest thump every time he saw her.

When Sam met Quinn for the first time, at her breakfast one morning, he found her dislike in him actually amusing and endearing. Sam was trying his best not to make an assumption about her, but he did have a feeling that travelling around pretending to be the President's perfect daughter was starting to have a toll.

It was officially Sam's second day on the job since he spent the night listening to Quinn make out with a boy that looked way too much like a man in his mid thirties, but Sam couldn't say anything, it was his job to look the other way. He wanted today to be better though, to be able to do his job and not act like a babysitter.

"How'd you land the cheerleader?" Sam frowned and looked over the hallway to see a guy, taller than him with very broad shoulders and a smirk that looked like all it was missing was a pornstauche.

"What?" Sam whispered, glancing up and down the hallway that was just outside the dining area of the Fabray's. He had no intention of making an impression to someone that he liked to chit chat.

"Quinn. She was a cheerleader." Sam just looked away from him, not amused at how informal he was talking and kept his eyes straight ahead. "Cause she's smokin'… I thought I'd get her after Grandpa Walters retired, but I got stuck with WASP of the year, First Lady Fabray."

"Shut up." Sam hissed, letting out a breath as he glanced around. He really didn't want to get caught talking on the job.

The door swung open and Sam saw this guy straighten up so quickly it was like as if an electric shock went through him. Sam had to hold back a snigger.

"Ah, Puckerman. You'll be riding in our motorcade." Sam saw the President point to the guy and watched as he started to lead them out to the front before starting to walk beside Quinn when she finally made her way out. Quinn was dressed in a navy blue dress that rested to her knees, black heels and pearls, which made her a little bit older than her twenty-two year old self, but still quite beautiful. 

* * *

Once they were in the car, Sam actually found the silence comforting. After numerous years of hearing gunfire and screams, something that he used to be quite accustomed to, the silence helped calm his mind. Sam didn't know exactly why Quinn was so hostile towards him, why she rejected him so much and even though he was dying to ask her why and hopefully find a way to make up for it, he knew he could never talk to her unless spoken to. He glanced over at her now to see a very bored expression on her face as she looked out the window and he wanted to do something about it.

Once they had arrived, Sam was into full protective mode, because in a situation like this there were a number of variables to consider. It was the Vice President's birthday and he decided to throw a function at his mansion, which was roughly okay since the Vice President would have his own security and it would mean a lot of eyes watching the place, but it still made Sam uneasy.

It was sunny, thank goodness, and the temperature was starting to raise, making Sam sweat under the layers of his Secret Service suit. If there was thing he hated, it was the suit, even though he spent most of his years in his Army uniform. But was better to be day than night since there were a number of spots anyone could hide in under the cover of darkness, even though it was boiling.

"Look, you don't have to babysit me." Quinn murmured and Sam was surprised at the fact she was actually talking to him. He glanced over at her and she was looking at him, a very bored expression on her face. "I can look after myself."

Sam just shook his head and continued to scan the room, noticing how loud Quinn sighed.

"Where is the alcohol…" Sam cracked a smile and started to follow Quinn as she made the rounds.

"President and First Lady about to head to the podium." Sam glanced around and spotted Puck who had just relayed the information of the receiver in Sam's ear and also whoever else's ear that was listening. Sam, knowing that they needed the daughter for their perfect image beside them, moved to Quinn and swooped her away from a group of frat looking boys and moved her to the podium, keeping a hand around her waist.

"Jesus, could have asked." She muttered and Sam just moved to a comfortable position beside Quinn, scanning his eyes over the crowd. Behind him, he was listening to the President relay a thank you to the Vice and that his whole family wished him a happy birthday. Sam had to suppress a smile when he saw Quinn eye roll.

When Russell was done, Sam followed Quinn diligently as she strolled from bar stand to bar stand and before long, Sam was now playing catch. As in, catching Quinn so she didn't fall over and smack her face into a pot plant every five seconds.

"I don't get why my father is the President." She mumbled after Sam narrowly had stopped her from slamming her face into what looked like a very expensive painting and guided her to a couch. "He is so… so dumb." Sam just stood beside her as he watched her drunken form spread out on the couch, wishing he could sit down beside her and comfort her.

"You know… he doesn't… didn't… even know I was pregnant." Sam frowned and glanced down at her. Quinn looked distraught, completely out of it and she looked like she was about to cry. This was the worst sad drunk Sam had ever met. "He doesn't care… he didn't even realise.."

Sam kneeled down in front of her and handed her his handkerchief, watching her carefully as her hazel orbs widened before she took the handkerchief. The tears had messed up her mascara and it looked like she had a recently acquired black eye, but to see this vulnerability behind her usually defensive attitude made Sam… like her even more.

"Your father loves you." Sam murmured softly and he saw the questioning look Quinn gave him, which he gave her a small smile in return.

"How do you know that?" Sam stood and sat on arm of the couch beside her, shrugging a little. He glanced down at the blonde and saw the actual curiosity and Sam shrugged again. Quinn reminded him a lot of the people he used to have to evacuate on his tours sometimes in the middle east. They were just scared.. and alone.

"Even though he may be the master of the universe.. I think he's tried to build something for you to be proud of." Quinn just narrowed her eyes at him, frowning deeply.

"I can get you fired for calling him master of the universe." Sam let out a soft laugh and rubbed his hands together, letting his hands rest in his lap.

"I could have been fired five minutes ago when I opened my mouth."

"How come you're talking to me?" Sam just shrugged.

"Probably because you won't remember it and… it seemed like you needed a friend."

Sam watched Quinn ponder that and tried not to look to pleased when she gave him a smile. Sam was just hoping that she wouldn't give him so many snarky looks after this conversation. He was just glad that they were talking openly… even though she was pretty intoxicated.

"Evans!" Sam stood up straight and was lucky that the President only entered the room, watching as he let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Quinn.. there you are." Sam glanced between Quinn and Russell, gulping a little at how Quinn swayed and Sam had to catch her. "You let her drink?" Sam looked at him blankly and glanced at Quinn, who gave him a sheepish smile before looking back at her father seriously.

"It's not his fault."

"Quinn, it's not even noon."

"It's five o'clock somewhere…" Quinn trailed off and Sam had to hide a smile, watching as Quinn quirked a perfect brow at her father. The President just grabbed her arm and pushed her in Sam's direction, causing Sam to have to catch her.

"Take her home… discreetly." Sam just nodded and gave Quinn's arms a rub.

* * *

Sam managed to sneak her out through the kitchen where the caters were going in and out, obviously a no go zone for any of the guests. Without even thinking, he draped his suit jacket over her and led her to the motorcade, giving the driver a nod before sliding in beside her.

"Why is it you guys never talk?"

"Distraction." Sam murmured, glancing out the window before looking over at Quinn. She was still holding onto the handkerchief and Sam had to smile about that, but he was more concerned at how she looked. He was unsure whether it was the way her father handled her, but Quinn just looked downright upset. It actually hurt him to see her like that.

"Why did you drink today, Miss Fabray?" He asked quietly and the look she gave him was one full of hurt.

"I wanted… attention." A twenty-two year old socialite.. wanting attention and going out of her way to get full blown drunk to get it? Sounded like not the best of ideas, but he got it. Even though she was just a few years younger than him, she did remind him of her teenager sister at times, but it was probably due to the constant limelight and travelling around.

"I'm not even going to tell you that's not the smartest idea, because you know that."

"I know…" Quinn mumbled, as if she had just been told off by the school principal.

When they got back to the White House, Sam was glad that she had sobered up a little so he didn't have to keep his arms out just in case she needed them. Was it so bad that he liked that? Sam did walk her to her door, which he always had to do, but this time it felt a little different.

"Look.. I'm sorry about being such a brat to you." Quinn started, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her hair as she gave him a tiny smile. "I've just had so many bodyguards that have treated me like… a thing. Not a person."

"We're just… scared." Quinn quirked her perfect eyebrow like she had done to her father and he had to take in a deep breath to stop his heart from thumping so hard.

"Isn't it your job… not to be scared?" Sam laughed and nodded, starting to walk back to his post.

"We're scared of you, Quinn." Sam watched as Quinn opened her mouth to say something, but shut it quickly and he just gave her the smallest of smiles, dipping his head before disappearing around the corner. Sam knew that even though Quinn would forget most of the conversation that they had during the day, he liked every bit of it.

That's when he knew he was in serious trouble.

* * *

AN: Obviously I'm not a Secret Service Agent nor have I any specific knowledge to their inner workings - only wikipedia can take me so far - so if there are any incorrect facts or something, it's not on purpose! Anyway, that's it! :-)


	2. Chapter 2

Slowest of uploads due to Exams, but I'm done and went straight to finishing the next chapter.  
Thanks for the reviews and favourites! Super nice to know people enjoy it, but keep them coming!  
Anyway, hope you like this chapter, it's slightly rushed ~ sorry!

* * *

_Chapter_ 2

"I think you're confused with Kirsten Stewart." It was Puckerman, who else, explaining about how Quinn looked exactly like Kirsten Dunst. Honestly, Sam didn't see the connection, but Puck and three other of the Secret Service Agents who looked as horny as dogs were all captivated by Puck and his infatuation with the Fabray girl.

"That's the girl from twilight." Puck explained when the crowd had blank faces and Sam rolled his eyes, only to be partly annoyed when Puck caught it. "Dude, she looks like Kirsten Dunst."

"Just because she played a cheerleader doesn't mean they lookalike." Sam mumbled, shifting a little as he glanced down the hallway to see the Fabray's still having their breakfast.

"But she has _the _nose." What the hell is that even meant to mean?  
"Her nose isn't straight." Sam mumbled and he was about to smile when he felt like he had won his argument, only to be confronted with three intense stares.  
"Have you been checking her out?" Sam felt a bead of sweat fall from the top of his hairline and to his brow, making his insecure feeling of his growing attraction for Quinn was becoming public knowledge.

"Who hasn't?" Sam glanced over at the other Secret Service agent, who was a tall lanky looking guy with a dopey dog grin. Sam gave the guy a small smile, thanking him secretly for the save and glanced at his outstretched hand before shaking it.

"Finn Hudson." Sam nodded, hoping to return to no speaking land, but Sam figured Finn wouldn't like to. "This is Mike Chang." Sam followed Finn's hand and nodded to a tall, slim asian standing in the corner. He looked no more older than twenty-four, which was a little strange because a lot of the agents spent the first six to eight years as a desk jockey, but he looked pretty quick and skilled on his feet so maybe he excelled well in the program. Or he was a secret ninja, who knows.

"Chang." Sam acknowledged and Mike nodded, not even a smile appearing on his lips.

Sam liked this guy already.

"Evans." Sam glanced up and coming out of the dining room was the President and Quinn, who both looked bored as hell. Quinn was wearing just a pair of jeans and a sweater, something she looked more at home in than all the party dresses he had seen her wear, while the President just wore his simple suit.

Sam already knew that Quinn had tennis training at the country club down the road, lunch with her mother at a restaurant downtown and a charity auction to attend to tonight, so Sam was prepared to sit through hours upon hours of boring entertainment.

"Hudson, Chang. Let's go." Sam watched as Puck winked before heading to the dining room to find the First Lady, which made Sam want to sigh loudly at. There was something about this Puckerman guy that really got on his nerves.

"I'll meet you out by the car." Quinn murmured and Sam nodded, heading outside to the motorcade which he would be driving today, much to his glee. He was kind of bored with sitting in the back with Quinn and having to resist the urge to stare at her.

Once Quinn had finally resurfaced, in a painfully short skirt and halter top thing for tennis, they were off to the country club tennis courts that were just down the road. Sam wanted to question why she didn't just play on the White House courts, but he probably realised she was meeting some guy here.

"Just… don't worry about being a hardass today. It's just me and you." Sam gulped at that before parking. So… she probably remembered all of last night. When he opened the door, he couldn't ignore the pleading look in her eyes.

"Fine." Sam mumbled and tried not to look too happy when she grinned in response.

"Who's the G-Man?" Sam glanced up just as he felt Quinn's fingers on his suit and he had to swallow hard at the girl standing in front of him. This job just got harder and harder everyday.

_Pun… intended?_

"Sam Evans. My bodyguard." Sam closed the door of the car a little too loudly and tried not to focus on Quinn's… friend.

She was latino, black straight hair tied up in a ponytail and had a killer body, which was not very well covered up in her tennis outfit. Her legs looked like they went forever… and ever.

"Down boy." She murmured, making Sam have to remind himself to breathe as he watched a small smirk appeared on her luscious lips. Sam glanced at Quinn who was looking at him with furrowed brows and before he could even think about it, a sheepish smile appeared on his lips.

"Wait, are you guys banging?" Sam coughed so loudly that he felt his throat choke and had sent himself into a coughing fit, only finding relief in Quinn patting his back.

"This guy is a terrible fucking bodyguard." Sam glanced up to see an amused smirk on the Latino's lips, making Sam's eyes narrow.

"San!"

"Let me guess, he's one of those Desert Storm guys." The colour drained from Sam's face and he tried his best to hold back his anger, but he knew he could do nothing about it. Besides, who the hell was this girl? Basically Satan in a beautifully shaped Latino goddess.

"Let's play."

* * *

Sam was painfully watching the tennis match, in between looking around the small tennis courts to see if there was anything out of the normal, but it was so painful due to the amount of short skirts on the court.

Yeah, there were two, but it was more than enough.

Sam had already memorised Quinn's dancer thighs, compared to Santana's - he learnt her name when Quinn used it in a sentence with many swear words to his surprise - quite skinny thighs. Now that he had the time to… ogle the two girls, Santana's skinny form compared, to Quinn's slim but slightly curvy figure, was much more appealing. Maybe it was the latinos snappy attitude that maybe turned him off her.

Sam had ditched his tie and unbuttoned a few of his shirt buttons because let's face it, no one was going to dob on him for not looking absolutely up to standards. He was watching very attractive girls play tennis and the temp was hitting the nineties, definitely not the kind of day Sam would have enjoyed whilst wearing a suit and body armour. That stuff weighed a ton and felt like you were sweating bullets for days.

Sam felt a presence behind him and after doing a check almost twenty seconds earlier, he knew it would be Puck standing by his side.

"How's Mrs Fabray doing, Puckerman?" Sam glanced down and saw the frown Puck sported, knowing he had his eyes narrowed at him behind his aviators.

"Pretty fine." He murmured back before he heard his lips smack particularly loudly. "Looks like you have been _pretty _fine too."

Of course they had to be stretching out on the court, Quinn was in a position that Sam would have dreams about and the latino was testing her ability to do the splits. Sam couldn't help the head tilt he was sporting.

"That latino mama is fine…"

"Santana Lopez. You should get back to the First Lady." Sam murmured, actually amused at how Puck seemed infatuated with the girl. He had to remind himself to find out how Puck actually got the job because all his instincts seem to be due to his hormones. Sam was actually just glad that he wasn't talking about Quinn for a change, but he wasn't looking forward to the conversation Puck was going to strike when the girls started to walk over.

"Ladies." Puck murmured with a smirk and Sam tried not to smile at Quinn's eye-roll.

Sam checked over Puck's shoulder, making sure that Mrs Fabray was still at her table and drinking probably the second red wine of the day. It wasn't even noon… wonder where Quinn inherited that from.

"Sam, introduce us." Santana, nice and snappy as usual. Santana had that vibe that if Sam didn't do what she told him to do, she'd twist his balls so hard they'd pop off. Yeah, Navy Seal scared of a gorgeous Latino, who saw that coming?

"Noah Puckerman, this is Santana Lopez, friend of, Quinn Fabray. Puckerman is the bodyguard to The First Lady." Sam muttered, trying to resist the eye roll when he saw the smirk Puck gave her.

"Nice to meet you."

"You're very chatty." Santana murmured and Sam stood back, not interested in the conversation after her heard Puck reply with, _"You make me full of words." _which sounded like the beginning to a very bad love ballad.

"I think they kind of suit each other." Quinn murmured as she sat down on the bench to tug on a jacket, which Sam just shrugged at. Quinn gave him a look where her eyebrows rose and her eyes narrowed just in the slightest, which basically meant he had to say something.

"They're both… chatty people." Sam said with another shrug, trying to ignore the second look Quinn gave him. It was the look were her eyes were about to eye roll and her eyebrows were caught in a deep frown. It made her look absolutely beautiful.

"How come you're not like him? You're not chatty or… up front. The only thing I know about you is you're possibly a Desert Storm guy, due to your reaction to Santana's comment. I think I've heard Puck's whole life story about three times by now."

"Then he doesn't take it as seriously as he should. He could get fired. Relationships between the people you protect and meant to stay professional." Sam murmured with the tiniest bit of regret and was thankful that they had finally reached Mrs Fabray, who was finishing off her second glass. Puckerman was behind him after a bit of running, most probably, before following the First Lady when she made her decision to wait out the front so one of us could go grab the car.

The way the First Lady and Quinn always acted around each other made Sam really curious as to how their relationship… got to this point. Sam figures it had to do with something Quinn said the other night about being pregnant, which was very personal and Sam to this day wonders about constantly, but the way they act… as if they don't know or personally don't care about each other makes Sam even curious. It had to be something to do with the President, obviously, since both of their lives now revolve around him, but what could it be?

Sam noticed that whenever Judy Fabray would stand beside him, Quinn would never stand beside her mother but instead of the other side of him. Same with anyone Quinn was with… she just never stood beside her mother. Was it because she didn't support her? Why on earth not?

"First Lady Fabray, tell your husband-" The voice came literally out of no where and if Sam had Puck with him, it would have been shut down in seconds, but as Sam turned around and was forced with the possibly what was going to happen next, Sam knew he was going to get shot.

Who expects to get shot at a country club? Not Sam, but when he turned and was faced with the small handgun being held by a very shaky and clearly not in his right mind guy, he was getting ready to dive. Except he had two targets and Sam wasn't sure who to dive for. Then he made the decision for him and chose Quinn, making Sam jump in front of her just as the sound went off and Sam felt it, annoyingly, not pierce his body armour, but instead his left shoulder.

Just as Sam rolled to grab this guy so he couldn't shoot again, Puck was already there with the gun on the floor and the handcuffs securely in place.  
"You had to be a cowboy." Puck muttered and Sam had to smile at that before sitting up slowly, glancing up as Quinn bent down to unbutton his shirt to assess the damage.

"Flesh wound." Sam murmured, feeling a little woozy and highly aware that they were in a very vulnerable position.

"Flesh wound." Quinn echoed before reaching into her tennis bag and pressed the spare jumper she had against the wound. Sam could feel the absolute shit storm that was going to happen and he had a feeling that Puck could possibly lose his job.

All he could focus on were Quinn's lips, which were positioned right in front of his face as she assessed his arm. Her fingers were tracing the outline of his collarbone and for some reason Sam couldn't feel any pain. It wasn't his first rodeo and probably won't be his last, but the concern Quinn was showing towards him wasn't making the situation any better, but it made him _feel _better. Something that Sam would have to think long and hard about later.

* * *

"Evans, how could have this have fucking happened? You were at a country club, for fucks sakes, you of all people know that place should have been cleared at least two fucking days ago." Sam was getting stitched in the White House Medical Unit's Physician to the President's Examination room and was being lectured by the Director of the Secret Service, Brian Peters. This guy had protected former presidents and did three tours in Afghanistan, so he was a tough bastard and was very rough.

"It's a grade fucking A fuckup, Evans." Sam just nodded although his thoughts wandered off to who would be looking after Quinn right now. Peters also liked to swear a lot. He dropped F-bombs like they were vowels. "You're lucky the President is feeling pretty fucking thankful that you jumped in front of a fucking bullet for his daughter, but when that goes away, he's gonna be pointing some fucking fingers!"

Sam glanced up at Peters and forgot that he did this earlier and regretted it since looking into his eyes was like staring into the sun. It hurt, a lot, and it also freaked the shit out of you too. Brain Peters is a tall guy, built like an Ox and apparently has the deadliest aim anyone has ever seen due to his precision eyesight. People claim it's because he's got one green and blue eye, but Sam personally think this guys just stares so hard he can see real far. Solid logic.

"Can we come in?" Thank the lord above, a saviour in the shape of Quinn Fabray had come to stop Brain Peters from murdering Sam and possibly Puck, wherever the guy was, but Sam knew dealing with Quinn was going to be harder than dealing with Brian. Brain just grunted and nodded his buzz cut head before moving away from the examination table where Sam was sitting up on and left the room.

Quinn and the First Lady entered, both with almost identical small smiles on their faces.

"Thank you, Sam." Judy murmured, reaching forward to give Sam a gentle pat on his arm and left the room, giving a stern look Quinn's way. Sam held back a chuckle as he ran his fingers over his arm, thanking the Doctor when he left after he was done.

"Looks like it'll scar." Quinn mumbled and Sam watched as she leant in close, making Sam have to remember to breathe when he felt her warm breath on his skin.

"No big deal." Sam murmured before grabbing the gauze, patching it over it before sliding off the table to find his shirt.

"Oh my god!" Sam flinched at the shrill of Quinn's voice and froze instantly, glancing around for the immediate sign of danger but was met with Quinn's gentle hands on his stomach.

Inhale and exhale.

Her fingers were tracing the outline of a faint white line that ran down from just below his left pec and crossed to stop at just above his bellybutton. Sam bit his lip, trying to remember the last time had been touched like this.

"How…?"

"You don't want to know." Sam murmured and turned away before instantly remembering that the scars on his back were worse.

"What happened to you?" Sam shrugged on his shirt and tucked it into his pants, buttoning it up before holstering his gun.

"You have an auction." Sam just murmured, sliding his jacket on and started to tie his tie. Then he saw the look in Quinn's eyes and he felt his heart flutter. Before he knew it, Quinn was taking his hands in hers and gently squeezed them, but Sam had to stop it. This couldn't happen. He quickly snatched his hands back and grabbed his suit jacket, walking off as he tried his best not to look back at her.

Sam didn't want to know if she was hurt from that or if she was angry. He didn't even want to think about it right and as he dressed in a tuxedo to attend the charity auction, yeah Sam insisted that it was a flesh wound, he wasn't looking forward to it. It was a formal affair and Sam's thoughts wandered to what Quinn would be wearing. The fact that he couldn't get her out of his head made the situation a whole lot worse for him.

* * *

Right on six o'clock the First Lady and Quinn made their way out of their rooms and down to the motorcades with Quinn throwing Sam the angriest look he had ever seen. Maybe that way she would stay away from him and honestly, it was the best thing. The fact that he couldn't stop thinking about her made him wish he could have something more. That he could kiss her, touch her and protect her from more than just crazy men and bullets. Sam wanted to protect her from heartbreak and fights with her mother.

The security detail had been stepped on the Fabray women and Sam had now Chang and Hudson who were the President's service men, but since he was staying in with the house security detail, he wanted there to be more eyes due to what happened earlier today. Also, Sam had a feeling that there could be a situation where the hit might be tried again so he was trying to get down to the bottom of it. Sam felt a little queasy at the situation, knowing that even though that the guy who shot him earlier was behind bars, there could be something more to what happened.

Sam just wanted to keep Quinn safe.

"The fact that you're still working is miraculous, Mr Evans." Judy murmured when they were in the motorcade, Sam just nodded and glanced at Quinn who had her eyes out the window. It was going to be a long, long night.

Quinn was sporting a long red dress that fell to her ankles, with black heels that almost made her taller than him. It clung to every sweet curve of her body and it made Sam's imagination go wild, with Sam having to think of very unpleasant images to take his mind off it. Looks like it was going to be a battle tonight to not try anything stupid.

Once they had finally arrived, Sam jumped out as soon as he could because the tension in the car was absolutely unbearable. Both Fabray women seemed a little bit confused by Sam's presence and not to mention, Quinn had a overwhelming rage towards him at the moment, but Sam still held Quinn's hand to help her up the steps of the University of Washington's library steps.

Sam had no idea why the charity auction was at the University of all places, but it had been checked out and prepped for the First Lady's arrival for about three days now, so Sam felt a little bit safer. He really didn't want to get shot again.

The evening went to plan and Quinn had played her part of the gracious and humble daughter well, only slipping up a few times when Sam tried to pull her away from the bar. It had gone back to that first day where Sam did his job and Quinn snapped at him, but it was the way he wanted. It was somewhat easier not to like someone when they absolutely did not like you.

"Your girl looks uptight, did you guys have a spat?" Puckerman, who else, murmured as he came to stand beside Sam after doing a couple of rounds of the room. Everyone was having dinner so it was easy to spot if anything looked out of the ordinary. Sam just ignored him, well he had a right to since Puck didn't even get a warning or anything from what happened at the country club. It all fell on Sam's shoulders, annoyingly so.

"Loosen up, man."

"Shut up, Puck." Hudson, over the comms, and Sam was thankful that he wasn't the only one being subjected to the torture alone. Sam had Chang and Hudson to help shut him up.

"F2 moving." F2 was Quinn's name over the comms, as in Fabray number two, and Sam's eyes immediately shot up to find where Quinn was. She was heading outside by the looks of it and he couldn't have that.  
"Following." Sam replied and walked through the dozen round tables till he found Quinn out in the student smoking area, lighting a cigarette, except her hand were shaking too hard for her to actually get it working. It was pretty cold out there too.

"Here…" Sam murmured softly, grabbing the lighter from her hands gently and lit it for her, handing back the lighter.

"Thanks." She mumbled in response and Sam shrugged off his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before moving to stand a safe distance from her. "Now why do you do that?"

Sam glanced up and frowned, confused by the question and her tone that was filled with attitude. Sam quickly turned off his microphone so that no one could hear this conversation and since he knew Puck was the horniest of horndogs, he would get a kick out of this conversation.

"Sorry?"

"You always pull away from me, but then you come back. It's fucking frustrating."

"I'm your bodyguard, Miss Fabray."

"Oh don't give me that Miss Fabray bullshit." Yeah, Sam thought it might have been the alcohol fuelling this but she's only had one glass of champagne all night. It worried Sam about where this might be going. "You're not like those other guys. It's just a job to them. With you… it's something more."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The time at the party.. that bullshit about how you're _scared _of me and jumping in front of bullets for me." Quinn had butted out the cigarette now, her hands were everywhere but all Sam could focus on was her lips. They were covered in red lipstick, the exact shade that matched her dress and Sam's heart was thumping. "I see the way you look at me."

She was walking towards him now and her eyes changed from anger and hatred to… softness. "I can see your hurt Sam." Sam looked down now, finding her eyes hard to look into. All his walls and all his defences were being torn down right now by Quinn. This girl he had only met a few days a girl. A girl that he couldn't get out of his head.

"I've seen a lot of bad things." Sam murmured quietly, not noticing that Quinn's hands had taken his like before. "For some reason, they all go away when I'm with you."

"Then stop pushing me away." Sam just sighed and pulled away, moving to sit down as his hands shook.

"I have to." Sam just let out a breath, twisting his hands together and kept his eyes on them as he felt Quinn sit down beside him. "I'll lose my job. I'll.. lose everything."

"But what could you gain?" Sam glanced up at her and his brain went fuzzy. He didn't know what to think… or to do whenever he looked at her, making his judgement completely stuffed whenever it came to Quinn Fabray. Sam just shook his head and his heart fell when he heard her stand up, knowing that it was probably disheartening of him to not have said anything.

Then when he looked up at her, the moonlight illuminating her figure and the red dress giving small sparkly lights, all he wanted to do was kiss her.

So that's what he did.

He moved so fast he wasn't sure if Quinn had caught up with his actions, but when he felt his lips press to hers and the response of hers moving with his, he couldn't care less for what was going to happen next. There was a fire that flowed through Sam that he hadn't felt in a long time and when he felt her hands moving across his chest and through his hair, there was a connection there too.

Then, she did something he totally didn't expect and she now had her hand rubbing his northern regions. The feeling was of course, amazing, but they were out in the smoking area of a public University, so Sam knew he had to change things up quick. Sam gripped her hand and tugged her to a fire exit, which thankfully was unlocked and pulled her in. Although Sam had a different scenario in his mind… namely her bed or his, but making out in the janitor's closet was probably the closest thing they would ever get to.

Sam had pulled Quinn up she was pressed against the wall and kissed her deeply as her legs wound around his waist. He was subtly grinding his erection into her and he couldn't help but feel pretty good about himself whenever she moaned in response. The pain in his shoulder started to come back, but he just ignored it. Quinn took all his pain away.

"Evans.. Evans, where the fuck are you?!" Just as Quinn got to the zipper of his pants Puckerman had to interrupt in his ear. It also killed his boner and probably his pride at the same time. Sam held his finger to Quinn's lips, which she just nipped at and Sam had to remind himself to calm down, before turning on his microphone.

"What is it?" Sam whispered hastily, his breathing a little raggeded.

"We're leaving, get F2 back ASAP."

"Roger." The look on Quinn's face was a look of disappointment but the flush that was capturing her face made him just want to kiss her even more.

"You look like you're about to steal me away." Quinn murmured and quirked a brow, the small beginnings of a smirk appearing on her lips.

"Don't tempt me."

"Don't tempt you what?" Puck murmured in Sam's ear and he completely froze, forgetting that he had turned his microphone back on. Quinn's alarmed face made him want to laugh though and before he knew it, they were quickly scrambling out of there.

* * *

Sam couldn't stop his knee from bouncing the whole way back to the White House. It also didn't help that Quinn was sitting across from him with a smile that he wanted to kiss. He couldn't stop thinking about kissing her ever since their last one and as Judy talked on her cellphone, the top of Quinn's heel was nudging against his foot.

As procedure, Sam always walked Quinn back to her room before letting her go for the night, but this time it felt different. For some reason, every apart of his body felt warm as he walked beside Quinn, her fingers brushing over his just lightly. It was like there was this weight that was lifted off him, but it was clouded with worry and guilt for what might happen to him… and Quinn. At this exact moment though, as Sam opened her door and stood against it, all he could think about is Quinn.

"Stay." She whispered and Sam shook his head, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was watching before leaning down to kiss her softly. Sam felt her fingers on his chin, making a bolt of electricity go through his body and his thoughts wondered to what he could do to her right at this moment. But he knew he couldn't.

"Next time." Too much excitement and close calls tonight. Sam had to think this through properly.

"Promise me."

"You can count on me." Sam whispered, a small smile appearing on his lips as he saw Quinn's smile. There was something he couldn't explain, but every time he looked at her there was nothing else in the world that mattered than her smile right there. Sam wanted to see it everyday… and it was amazing to think that he was the one that put it there.

"Bonne nuit." Quinn murmured as Sam stepped back, still sporting her smile and Sam matched it, his eyes wandering over her body in the dim light of the hallway before glancing back up at her.

"Fait de beaux rêves belle demoiselle." Sam couldn't help but chuckle when Sam saw Quinn's surprised look before turning away, heading back to his station with a smile he couldn't get rid of.

* * *

Bit of a lousy ending, there was enough drama in that chapter that there didn't need to be some dramatic thing to carry over into a cliffhanger or whatever, but anyway! Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you think!


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